


Someone to hold on to

by MissKaedex



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Romance, References to Depression, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:55:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21962452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKaedex/pseuds/MissKaedex
Summary: Kenma just needed someone to hold on to.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Kudos: 72





	Someone to hold on to

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prblue/gifts).



> This is a gift for a friend of mine @MistressTiff-. I don't know much about Kenma as a character, so I hope it's not too OOC. 
> 
> English is not my first language.

His eyes squinted as he stared at his phone screen, the bright light almost blinding him. No notifications. Kenma wasn't surprised, but he couldn't help and check ever so often. 'Just in case', he told himself - at least he tried to do so.

He had been awake for a couple of hours already, but hadn't moved out of bed yet. He had done this a lot lately. He woke up and stared at the ceiling of his room, occasionally checking his phone for messages that weren't there.

To say that Kenma was feeling lonely was an understatement. He felt lonely and sad and kind of ashamed. Ashamed at himself for wanting attention, for wanting friends. Friends who cared about him enough to send him a simple text message, asking about his day, or how he was feeling or just telling him a joke. Even a joke that wouldn't even be funny. He couldn't care less what it was, he just needed interaction with other humans. Even a simple nod in his general direction would do.

Kenma rolled onto his side, scrolling through the various social media apps he had on his phone, there he saw people, teenagers, younger, older or the same age as him, having fun and hanging out with their friends. It made his heart clench, painfully so. He should be like them, like these kids, also having fun and going out, taking picture and posting them. Showing off. He should be doing all this, but he didn't. Instead Kenma spent his days alone in his room, watching other people live their life's he wish he could possess.

Kenma put his phone down, exhaling deeply. He knew it had been his own fault. He pushed people away, he spoke monotone, seemed disinterested and kept conversations short. His teammates or classmates had tried to interact with him outside of practice or school, but Kenma always automatically had said no, it was more a habit than an actual 'want'. Now he wished they would ask him again, to have fun, to go out, but they had given up on him, after the countless times of him not accepting their invitations. Now, if they were planning something, everyone invited would go, everyone except Kenma, because no one asked him any more. 'Why even bother', they would say, he would turn them down anyway. But then again, it had been his own fault. He brought this upon himself.  
But Kenma didn't act the way he did because he wanted to, he had never tried to make sure to not be apart of any social gatherings, at least not purposely. No, it was just how he was. It was his personality, his habits and his flaws and he so very much hated himself for it. He wish he could change. He really did.

But what was the point of that, Kenma thought to himself bitterly as he spent one last glance at his still empty lock screen. With a sigh he pushed the blankets aside and swung his legs out of bed, the cool air of the room brushing against his clammy skin. His eyes moved towards the blinds in the darkness of the room, seeing the sun shine through the corners of the fabric, he couldn't remember the last time he had raised them.

He begrudgingly decided to finally make his way towards the bathroom, stepping idly over the various items that littered the carpet, these included clothes, trash and probably food. Kenma frowned. He had planned on cleaning his room a couple of days ago, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Seemingly feeling always exhausted after starting and then just giving up, settling for a nap instead. Tomorrow, he had always told himself, knowing fully well that tomorrow would never come.

He flickered the light on in the bathroom, eyes catching himself in the mirror as he tossed his phone almost carelessly onto the counter. He looked like a mess, his dark roots seeming almost soaking wet from all the grime and grease in his hair, bleached part looking filthy. Kenma couldn't help but feel disgusted with himself, as a sweaty hand brushed through his hair, unable to remember the last time he had taken a shower.

His chest suddenly felt so very tight as he forced himself to smile at his own reflection, the feeling of numbness suddenly being replace by an overwhelming wave of sadness. His hand moved to his face, shakily clamping over his mouth, fingers digging almost painfully into his own cheek, as he tried to silence the sob that threatened to tear from his throat. His eyes watered, as he tried to blink his tears away, he shouldn't be crying, he had no right to. He had brought this upon himself after all.

But Kenma still couldn't help the ugly gasp that ripped from his throat, couldn't help the tears that started spilling either. He was devastated, disgusted and lonely. Oh, so very lonley. He needed someone, something to hold on to. Not even physically, but emotionally, someone to show him he was worth it and to put up with him. But Kenma had no one, not that he blamed them, he had pushed them all away after all and that made him angry, furious even. He had done this to himself and now he had to pay the price.

He hated himself.

He didn't want to do this anymore, he couldn't, he was unable to, every day was like torture. Kenma knew there were good and bad days, but to him it seemed like there were only the bad days left by now. The next day even worse than the other. He felt like he was drowning and then he suddenly realised, he wished he was. He wanted to be pulled under cold and dark water by some invisible force, feel the air be crushed out of his chest as icy water rushed into his lungs. And that thought scared him, scared him oh so very much.

Kenma knew there was something seriously wrong with him, that he wasn't 'alright'. His mum had already dragged him to multiple doctors, but what use was it to him, they had given him medication, meds that he had refused to take. Now he wished hadn't. Maybe things would have been different if he had taken the pills he was supposed to.

His hand went to the cabinet, opening it, eyes scanning over the various bottles of prescription medications. His eyes halted on his mother's sleeping pills. Without a second though he grabbed the small yellow bottle, slamming the cabinet door shut. His eyes scanned the contents of the bottle, reading the label heart racing. He couldn't tell if it was excitement or fear. His mum wouldn't know if they were gone, she rarely used them any more anyway.

With trembling fingers he unscrewed the cap, spilling the contents all over the counter top. He counted them, they were twelve small blue pills. A nagging voice in the back of his head told him to take them, to swallow them all, the other said not to. Kenma didn't think as he grabbed the first blue one between shaking fingers, placing it into his mouth. Hand going for a second and third pill. His face twisted into a grimace as he felt the bitter tang of the now dissolving pill on his tongue.

Kenma almost choked on his own spit when his phone vibrated, his eyes flickered towards the screen, the caller ID flashing brightly. Kenma stood there for a few more moments watching his phone in awe, before it dawned over him what he had been doing. He spit out the pills, turning on the sink and rincing his mouth with water. He then grabbed his phone, wet fingers having issues using the touch screen.

"Yes?" He whispered breathlessly into his phone, voice cracking. His heart was beating so hard and fast, Kenma felt sick.

"Kenma, what's up?" Kuroo's voice blasted through the speaker, making the blonde boy flinch. "You weren't at practice or school in a while, is everything okay?"

"I'm sick." Kenma said without hesitation, eyes flickering towards the half dissolved pills in the sink, he turned on the water to wash them down the drain. His throat felt dry, at the thought of what he had just attempted. "I'm sick." He repeated, voice shaking, forcing himself not to cry. To break. “Very sick.”

There was silence on the other line, Kuroo's voice sound hesitant as he spoke. "Kenma?"

And with that Kenma could no longer keep it together as a violent sob tore from his throat. His hand shot up to his mouth, to muffle the sound.

"Kenma! What's wrong? Do you want me to come over?" Kuroo said hastily, panic evident in his voice, so clearly, it made Kenma's heart clench.

"No." He croaked, eyes flickering at his own reflection before tearing itself away in disgust. "Just... talk to me. I need someone to talk to me."

There was an exhale on the other line. "Talking. I can do that."

And so they did. Kuroo spoke and Kenma listened. And the next day they did the same thing again and after that again.

Kenma wasn't getting better, Kuroo didn't miraculously fix the way he felt about himself and the way his head worked. But he was there when Kenma needed him to be, he had someone to hold on to. Someone to ground him. So now, whenever Kenma was standing on the edge, looking down at the dark abyss below, Kuroo was right behind him, ready to tear him backwards towards saftey whenever he needed to.

And Kenma was thankful for that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)


End file.
